Leap Before You Look
by ardavenport
Summary: Johnny gets some 'futuristic' help with a life-saving decision at a potentially deadly fire. And Roy doesn't understand what's bothering his partner.
1. Chapter 1

**LEAP BEFORE YOU LOOK**

by ardavenport

**

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- - - Part 1**

Johnny finished tying the safety line and tugged hard, testing it.

"Okay!"

The victim, his name was Glen, moaned in pain.

"All right, Glen, we'll be right with you."

He only moaned and nodded back to Roy. Both paramedics edged closer to him at opposite ends on the narrow length of the unfinished floor he had landed on. He had fallen only two floors from a girder two stories above. And miraculously not gone down the other six stories to the street below. He said he hurt his back and the foreman of the construction site had called them.

"All right, you're doing real good." Johnny slowly knelt at his feet.

"Oooooh, if this is good, I'd hate to see what terrible feels like. Ooooooooh."

Johnny and Roy smiled. If he could still keep some humor, he was a lot less likely to panic. Roy looked back behind him and Chet Kelly passed him the back board. Glen moaned, but stayed still.

Roy hefted the back board, ready to pass over one end to his partner so they could slide it under Glen.

Johnny froze.

He blinked. Then slowly looked down to the pavement, in the shadow of the buildings across the street.

"Johnny?" Roy didn't know what was going on. Was something wrong with the safety line? Johnny looked . . . . . scared?

He visibly swallowed.

"Oh, boy."

**

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"What?"

John Gage stared at the preposterous little man named 'Al', standing before him.

"What are you talking about?" Switching bodies? The future? Time travel?

"Look." Al spread his hands, a cigar clamped between two fingers of his left. "I've told you everything I can. What you need to do now, is help your partner."

Mouth gaping, he stared back. Was this really the future? And did people really dress like that in the future?

He had been with Roy, rescuing a man who had fallen at a construction site. Now he was . . . . here. Where ever that was. A sterile blue room with one door with no handle through which this man had appeared wearing a green plaid jacket, powder blue shirt, metallic gold tie and maroon pinstripe pants. Not even the most derranged disco addict would wear anything like that.

And the worst part . . . . . he wasn't himself. Literally. When he looked into the mirrored surface of the table in the middle of the otherwise empty blue room, he saw someone else's face with lighter brown hair, a sqaure jaw and dimpled chin. Someone else's reflection; a man with brown hair and broad shoulders wearing a tight white spacesuit looking thing. He touched the face; it did not feel like this other person; he still felt like he was in his own body. But everyone else saw him as this 'Sam' person. And anyone who saw 'Sam' back in his own time and place, would just see John Gage. At least, that was what Al said.

"Why do I need to help you? This is crazy!"

It was totally crazy.

Al had told him everything about him. His name, his parents names, his brothers and sister, where he grew up, how long he'd been a fireman, how long he had been a paramedic and partner with Roy.

And Al had told him what was going to happen at a fire that night.

"Of course it's crazy." Al jabbed an accusing finger at him. "But crazy or not, you've got to tell me everything you know, or you and your partner are going to die in a fire tonight."

**

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"Johnny, is something bothering you?"

No response; he just kept looking out at the parking area at Rampart's emergency entrance.

"Johnny?"

"Hunh?"

Hand on the key in the ignition switch of the squad, Roy looked at his partner.

"Is something bothering you? I mean, you were kind of distracted this morning. And that last rescue . . . . I was just wondering if somethng was bothering you. If you wanted to talk about."

"Ooh, nooo, nooo, I mean, it's nothing. And y'know, I guess you never really get used to climbing up to those high places."

"Well, me and normal people, maybe. But I haven't seen anyone accusing you of being normal lately."

The joke seemed to go nowhere. Johnny just gave him such a nervous smile that Roy knew that something HAD to be bothering him.

"It's not girl trouble again, is it?" Roy really doubted it was that – he thought he knew all of Johnny's dumped-by-his-girlfriend moods – but it was a place to start.

"Oh, no, no, no, not really. I mean, it's . . . I, I really don't want to talk about it right now." He gestured, weakly smiled and he looked . . . nervous. In a way that Roy had never seen before.

There had to be something really serious bothering him.

"You're sure?"

"Yeah, really. I, I just can't talk about it right now."

"Well, okay." Roy shrugged and turned the ignition key. A man was entitled to his privacy and he had plenty bothering him with his mother-in-law visiting his family that week. "But you'll let me know if you change you mind?"

"Yeah –"

Beeep! Beeep! Beeep!

Johnny jumped back in his seat, away from the radio.

**Squad Fifty-One, are you available?**

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"Roooooyyyy!"

Johnny pounded on the mirror table, now displaying a scene next to a backyard pool. Dressed only in swimming trunks, the victim lay on green grass next to a stone patio, oxygen mask on his face. Roy held the biophone receiver; he couldn't hear his partner – his REAL partner – yelling at him from a stark blue room in the future.

"Don't diagnose anything, Sam!" Al fearfully looked up from some hand-held, cheesy plastic toy that blinked and made noises like a cartoon.

Apparently invisible to Roy and the worried family standing around in swimsuits and bathrobes, Al crouched next to Sam, coaching him on what to say.

"The whole paramedic program is new. They haven't worked out any modern protocols yet. You can't give someone an aspirin without calling the hospital for a doctor's permission first."

Roy lowered the reciever. "How do you know that?"

"Uuum, just a guess." Sam lowered his head over the victim's arm.

Grabbing his hair, Johnny grit his teeth. Sam was giving this poor guy an IV!

Johnny had refused to cooperate with Al. His whole story was crazy. They would die in a fire? They were found near the body of a victim who was never identified? How could Al possibly know that? How could anybody know things like that?

So, Al had told him to just watch and see for himself. Whenever Al was with Sam, the man who was replacing him, he could watch what was happening 'in the past' on the mirror table, like a horizontal TV set. But bigger and with a better picture than he had seen.

Was Sam really a doctor like Al said? Is that how he thought that their drowning victim also had cholecystitis? But even if he was a doctor, doctor's could still screw up. And Sam was wearing his clothes, his face, and everyone thought that Sam was him.

Sam finished and taped the IV down. Nothing happened. Roy only glanced at it before looking up at the ambulance crew, coming throught he gate.

"Rooooooyyyyyy!"

**

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His partner had been distracted and moody all morning. Roy had ignored it. Then he had asked about it. Johnny didn't want to talk about it. But now this . . . .

Dr. Joe Early, Nurse Dixie McCall and Roy DeSoto watched Johnny go back down the hall of Rampart's Emergency Department. Nurse Adell Thornburgh just shurgged her slender shoulders and moved on. She had stopped by to tell Johnny that she wasn't working on Saturday after all.

He had nodded nervously and told her that was nice. Then he excused himself to go back to wait in the squad.

Johnny? Pass up a chance at a date with a pretty nurse?

Eyes wide, Dixie looked at the two men. "What's gotten into him?"

Early pursed his lips. "Looks like he's kind of gone off his feed. What's eating, Johnny?"

Roy shook his head. "I don't know." He picked up the re-stocked drug box. "But I'm going to find out.

**

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- - - End Part 1**


	2. Chapter 2

**LEAP BEFORE YOU LOOK**

by ardavenport

**

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- - - Part 2**

Johnny angrily paced up and down in front of the mirror table. Al had left Sam, so there was no image, just the reflection that was not his face.

He had told Al everything. What choice did he have now? Trapped in a room that looked like it came out of a bad scifi movie with one door that he couldn't open? And in someone else's body?

And when they got the victim to Rampart, Doctor Brackett had confirmed that the drowning victim had an inflamed gall bladder.

However, he had not consented to Sam ruining his love life!

Adell had been standing right there. She was free on Saturday!

Well, he couldn't make it this Saturday. But he wouldn't have walked away! He would have at least gotten her phone number!

Evan Al had agreed that Sam shouldn't have done that and threw out a quick apology. And he at least noticed that Adell had a great body.

Sam had pratically run away. Roy had to know that something was wrong, though he wouldn't in a million years guess what it really was. And if Johnny had any doubt left about what Al had told him, it was gone as soon as he saw Dr. Early walk right through Al when he was standing there at Rampart.

Al had said he was projected as a hologram – whatever that was – and that no one could see him, except Sam. And it was true. No one reacted to him when he walked through gurneys or carts. No one saw him or asked him to put out his cigar at the hospital. But Sam made eye contact, though he didn't say anything. Johnny supposed that if Sam spoke to Al it would look like he was talking to thin air.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash. Rushing back to the table he saw his own face . . . . it was Sam, standing at the mirror over a sink in the locker room back at the station. Al stood next to him.

"Want to tell me what's going on with this guy, Al?"

"Yeah, I've been able to convince Johnny that we might be legit, so he finally gave us the scoop." Al consulted his noisy hand-held toy. "He got a call at five AM from his aunt this morning-"

"Johnny?"

They both turned. Roy came in, sticking his head past the wooden door and then stliding the rest of the way in. The door silently swumg closed behind him.

"Look, um, I know it's none of my business asking again, but . . . it really looks like something's bothering you. . . ."

Al exitedly punched buttons on his plastic toy. "Yes! Yes! It concerns Roy. Johnny wants to ask him something."

Sam gestured toward the bench and they sat down together in front of the lockers, while Al seemed to be reading from his hand-held blinking lights behind them.

"His Aunt Sarah called to tell him that his Uncle John died in a car accident last night . . . "

". . . . My, uh, my aunt called to tell me that, uh, my uncle died in a car accident. . . ." Elbows resting on his knees, Sam spoke slowly, his voice low.

"Uh, single car accident, no passengers, drunk driver . . . "

". . . . He was killed by a drunk driver . . . "

"No, no, no! His uncle was the drunk driver . . . !"

". . . .I mean, he was drunk . . . "

"His car hit a tree, killed on impact . . . "

". . . . He died instantly. He hit a tree."

"Oh, I'm sorry." Leaning forward, elbows on his knees, Roy nodded sympathetically. "I mean, I know what it's like to lose a favorite uncle."

"Johnny hated him. . . "

". . . . Well, he wasn't exactly my favorite uncle. . . ."

"But he was his father's little brother and Johnny's got to go to the funeral . . . "

". . . . But I've got to go to the service . . . ."

"It's tomorrow evening and it's a three-and-a-half hour drive to an Indian reservation past Palm Springs . . . . "

". . . . It's tomorrow . . . ."

"And he was hoping that Roy would go with him, but he didn't think he could ask; Roy's got a wife and kids and can't just go off on a moment's notice on things . . . "

Sam rubbed his neck. "And I kind of didn't want to go by myself. And I thought maybe you could come with me."

"Oh." Roy looked surprised. "Well, yeah, I can make it. If you're just going to the funeral and coming back the next day, we can be back before our next shift. Joanne'll understand something like this." Roy half-grinned. "And, my mother-in-law's coming; I'll take any excuse to get out of the house. But aren't you going with your aunt?"

"She lives north of LA, but she's driving over today. . . ."

". . . . Uh, she's already going over there today."

"Oh. Okay. Well, I'll just go call Joanne and talk to her about it." Roy got up from the bench and patted Sam on the shoulder. "Sorry, about your uncle."

"Yeah, me, too. And, thanks."

"No problem. I'm glad you told me what it was." Roy left.

Johnny watched Sam just sat there. Sitting there in blue uniform shirt, name tag and badge, clothes and a name that were not his.

"Okay, Al. I asked. Why am I not leaping."

Al intensely punched buttons on his plastic toy. "Ziggy still only gives Johnny and Roy a six percent chance of surviving the fire."

Sam got up and faced his partner. His REAL partner.

"Okay, so that wasn't it. What else have we got?"

Al shrugged. "I don't know, but Ziggy says that there's a seventy-eight percent chance that this uncle dying is tied to what happens in the fire tonight."

"Well, what do we-"

Johnny saw the movement before Sam and Al did. Sneaking up in the aisle between the lockers. Oh, no! Chet!

"Talking to yourself, eh, Gage?" Chet Kelly grinned under his bushy mustache.

Sam jumped back defensively. "No." He scowled over the shorter man. "How long have you been there?"

"Oh, not long." Chet Kelly held his hands up innocently.

"Well, what're you doing here?"

"Nothing, nothing. I just came to use the head." His hands still up, he edged past toward door between the sinks and the shower stall.

"Well, don't let me stop you." Sam sounded every bit as annoyed as Johnny was, and he continued to glare until Kelly had gone in and closed the door behind him. Then Sam left the locker room, going out back behind the station. He checked around to make sure he was alone before saying anything to Al again.

"That guy doesn't have anything to do with Johnny and Roy dying in this fire tonight does he?"

Al shook his head. "No. Chet Kelly's an annoying jerk, but he's one-hundred percent reliable for back-up in a fire. In fact, none of the others here are anywhere near when it happens. And there's no chance they're involved anyway. Every one of these guys would risk themselves for any of the others if they were in danger."

Sam sighed. It was mid-afternoon already. The sky a bright smog-tinged blue over the rear parking lot. Cars zoomed by on the freeway beyond the cement fence and bushes at the rear of the fire station.

"Okay." Sam looked at his watch. "But we've only got about nine hours until that fire. Get Ziggy working on it. And get more information from Johnny about this uncle of his."

"Coming up."

The mirror table went bright white. Johnny flinched.

And then he was staring back at Sam's face again.

**

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Joanne was disappointed. But she understood. She even offered to pack a bag for him and bring it to the station so Roy could leave with Johnny right after his shift.

And Roy managed to not say anything about being glad about missing her mother's arrival. She was not always understanding about his feelings about that. Dismissing thoughts of his critical mother-in-law, Roy went to find his partner.

Oooooooeeeeeeee-mmmmaaaaahhhh - BLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

"Station Fifty-One – Construction accident – At the quarry, end of Venice Road - At the quarry, end of Venice Road - Cross Street Sea Breeze Highway – Time Out Fourteen, Oh-five."

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Again, Johnny was stuck pacing before the mirror table. He had already explored the perimeter of the room twice and looked at the entrance that Al came through three times. There was no handle or knob or switch or anything that he could use to open it with. A disembodied voice named Gooshie once told him that Al was busy and that he should be more patient. Yelling back at it didn't help.

At one point, Al came in and interrogated him about a man he had never heard of. Apparently, they thought they had identified the other body found in the fire. But Johnny knew nothing and a frustrated Al left.

What was going on? The tabletop surface remained mirrored.

It had been hours. What was Sam doing with his life? (His last name was Beckett and along with being a doctor, he was supposed to be some kind of all-around super scientist.) And if he failed. . . .

Deadly serious, Al had told him that if Sam died in the fire, he would be stuck in Sam's body. So, Sam HAD to figure out what was going wrong before it did and change it. That was the only thing that would return Johnny back to his own time and body. Which did not make any sense to him; weren't these people in charge?

Johnny told Al everything he could think about his no-good uncle. The drinking, the self-pitty, the excuses, the money his father gave him. And Al told Sam all of it while Sam washed the dinner dishes. But that felt like hours ago. _What was going on?_

The mirror flashed. Johnny rushed to it.

Wearing tunrout pants, suspenders t-shirt and boots, Sam was in the kitchen, mostly in shadow. It was night.

"Where have you been, Al?" Sam's tone expressed every bit of frustration that Johnny was feeling. "It's almost time!"

"Sorry, it took a lot of time to dig up more information. There wasn't a lot to find. But, hey, won't the other guys notice you're gone?"

"Oh we just got back. I told them I was getting a glass of milk. Boy, these guys really earn their pay, Al. Two heart attacks, one traffic accident and and a fire in a bar's men's room since dinner."

"Yeah, well, they're about to get a lot busier. Now we focused on what caused the fire and the body they couldn't identify. Ziggy calculates an eight-four percent probability that he was Amos Thackery." Al seemed to be reading from his noisy plastic toy. "Born, 1924, served in the Marines in World War II, three purple hearts and a silver star. Went home, married a girl from the USO, went back to school, lived the American dream in the 1950's, until his drinking got out of hand and his wife divorced him in '65, took the kids and the house and Thackery went down hill until he ended up on skid row in LA."

Sam leaned back on the kitchen counter and folded his arms. "Does Ziggy know why?"

"Ziggy gives better than a ninety percent chance that it was undiagnosed PTSD." Al shrugged. "Guys back then, they didn't talk about things like that. You either sank or swam."

Sam looked confused. "Well, did he have any connection to Johnny or his uncle? Did they know each other?"

All shook his head. "Nope. There's no record that any of them ever met. Johnny's uncle was with the Army in Europe. Thackery was with the Marines in the Pacific. And Johnny swears he's never heard of him."

Sam ran his hand through his hair. "So, Roy and Johnny die trying to save this guy –"

"No, actually they didn't. They didn't even know he was in the building. None of the other squatters stuck around to tell anyone that there might still be someone inside. And Roy and Johnny's bodies were together sixty feet away from where they found this guy."

"Well, how did they all die?"

Al exhaled a sigh. "Roof collapse. None of the other firemen could get to Roy and Johnny in time."

Watching the scene, like a _Twilight Zone_ nightmare come alive, Johnny hugged himself. He didn't like hearing anyone talk about his and Roys' bodies. What happened?

They ran out of time to wonder about it.

Oooooooeeeeeeee-mmmmaaaaahhhh - BLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

"Station Fifty-One – Structure fire – Abandoned building at Thrity-Nine Seventeen Oakmont Street – Thrity-Nine Seventeen Oakmont Street - Cross Street Griswell Avenue – Time out, Oh-One Nineteen."

**

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- - - End Part 2**


	3. Chapter 3

**LEAP BEFORE YOU LOOK**

by ardavenport

**

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- - - Part 3**

There was plenty of smoke. But it could have been worse. They had three engines and a truck company on the fire. The building was empty. As they rolled in, Officer Vince Howard told them that they'd busted groups of winos, who built fires inside to keep warm, before. So, it was a good bet that was how this fire got started, but it looked like whoever might have started it had run off. Engine Eighty-Six hadn't found anyone inside.

In full gear, his breath loud in his air mask, Roy advanced with the hose down the smoke blackened corridor, Johnny carrying it behind him. The air was hot and acrid.

"Aaaah!"

Suddenly appearing out of the dark, there was a man in front of him. A shabby older man in dark clothes, a hat and clutching a bottle of wine as if it might protect him. He coughed, his pale eyes wide and terrified in the firelight and Roy just barely missed knocking him over with a spray of water.

"Johnny! We got a victim in here!"

Something rumbled above.

Roy automatically huddled as soon as he felt the weight from above, trying to protect his body. But something landed on his left leg, heavy and hot enough to feel the heat even through his boots.

"Roy!"

The weight was gone and then he was being drenched in a stinging water stream.

"Roy!"

Johnny pulled him upright. His leg hurt. There would be quite a bruise, but he was sure it wasn't broken or burned.

The man was still there, still terrified. Coughing harder, the bottle still clutched in his hand. He suddenly ducked away down the corridor he had appeared from.

"Johnny! Go after him! I'm fine!"

Roy saw Johnny looking at him, firelight reflected on his face mask. He looked to where the man had been and then back at Roy.

Johnny grabbed his arm, put it over his shoulder and lifted.

"Come on!"

Roy didn't really have a choice as he limped with his partner down the narrow hallway, dark and unlit, even by the fire; there was light at the end. Roy saw outlines of metal shelves in waving firelight. The old man's silhoette ahead of them collapsed.

Getting to the end of the corridor, Johnny went right past him.

"Johnny!"

There was a wall ahead of them, then a heavy door swinging open. And total blackness ahead.

"Get inside, quick!" Roy went down on his hands and knees; his left leg throbbed with the pain, but adrenaline let hm crawl forward a few steps and then flip over so he could see behind him without falling backwards onto his air tank.

A second later, Johnny's silhoette appeared, with the old man, blocking the only light coming in. Then the heavy door closed. It was completely black.

Roy pushed his mask off.

"Johnny, what is this –?"

The explosion outside drowned him out even through the thick walls and Roy dove down to protect his body again.

But nothing happened. At least not to them in whatever pitch dark sanctuary they were in. But outside. . . .

Roy peeked upward, though he couldn't see a thing. "Roof collapse."

The old man coughed in the darkness.

"Hey." He heard Johnny's voice, unmuffled by his mask. "Breath into this. Come on."

The air reeked of smoke, but it was nowhere near as bad it was outside.

"Johnny, how did you know about this place?"

"Well, the old guy had to be hiding someplace safe in here all this time. . . " cough-cough. ". . . he must sleep here or something. Must've woken up, panicked and tried to get out."

Roy could hear more rumbling, crashing outside, but not near or over them this time. They were safe for the moment. Except the air was clostrophobically warm and felt like it was getting hotter.

"Is this some kind of walk in freezer or something do you think?"

Roy heard a thick, flemmy cough on the floor. "Yeah. Got my bead roll here and the door fixed so I can," cough ,"come and go when I please." Cough-cough. "No one bothering me." Cough.

"Hey, put this back on."

Roy knew they couldn't go now. He tugged at a strap of the heavy tank on his back. It was getting hotter.

"How much air do you think we have?"

"I don't know." Johnny paused and Roy heard the old man breathing into his partner's mask. "But I'll bet it's still a lot more air than we would've had out there."

**

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His knees weak, Johnny slid down to the floor, leaning against one of the white supports of the table.

He would have killed Roy. He would have killed them all.

He felt sick, like he couldn't breath and he just sat there for a long time, staring at the blueness. If it hadn't been for that guy Sam . . . .

He heard the door hiss open. Footsteps.

Al knealt down beside him. His badly matched outfit and metalic gold tie just as untouched as they had been when he went with Roy and Sam into the fire.

"I would have killed them." Johnny's throat tightened, choking his words into a near whisper. He wiped his face.

"Well, that's what Sam was there to fix. You would've seen the old man, thought about your uncle and tried to just get Roy out. You wouldn't have meant to kill anyone. It would have been just a choice."

"Well, it would have been the _wrong_ choice! And I would have killed Roy."

Johnny had to stop and take a deep breath before continuing. "I would've done what you're never supposed to do. I would've left that old wino behind because I thought Roy was the one who should make it instead. And you know what." He looked up at Al. "Even if we'd made it, Roy would never have forgiven me for leaving a victim behind." He shook his head. "Never."

Al laid his hand on his shoulder.

"Well, you would have meant well. But you won't remember any of it after you leap back, anyway."

Johnny wiped his face. "Huh? What?" He squinted back to Al. "What you mean. I could I not remember?"

"I don't know." Al looked genuinely puzzled. "We haven't really figured out how that part of it works yet."

Al and everything around him faded into bright white. . . .

. . . . and total black.

"Johnny." Roy's voice.

"Yeeeaaahhhh. . . . " It was so hot. He was soaked with sweat under his turnouts and air tank. The air was thick. . . .

. . . . fading into a gray square, a black outline wearing a fire helmet. A muffled voice.

"Hey! They're alive!"

. . . . fading into more voices and men shouting and hands and dark shapes passing by above, fading into . . . .

"Johnny?"

"Yeeeaaahh . . . ."

. . . . Sky. The air had gone cool. It felt good on his face.

He took a deep breath. . . . .

. . . .coughed into an oxygen mask. He lifted his head, trying to see. There were red flashing lights, white street lights and a haze of smoke above them. But no yellow fire glow.

"Hey. Just lie down." A hand pressed him back down and held his wrist. There was an IV in his arm, the bag lying on his chest. His head lay on something passably softer than the pavement under the rest of him.

Who? Johnny blinked up at a familiar face. It was . . . . . Al?

No. It was Ernie Brown. Squad Forty-Five.

"What?" He tried to look around. Was the fire out? Ernie pushed him back down again.

'Hey, Gage, just lie still. Ambulance is almost here."

"Johnny?"

He turned his head toward Roy's voice. An oxygen mask in one hand, he sat on the back bumper of a squad. One boot was off.

"Hey. Next time, let me help sharing the oxygen with the victim."

The victim . . . . Johnny didn't see him. Ernie pressed him down again. "He got the first ambulane out with Tom and Nick Salvietti from Eighty-Six with a broken kneecap and a concussion. He's going to be fine, Gage. But he keeps asking for his bottle."

He let his head drop and stared up at the sky covered with a film of lingering slightly less black smoke. There was a siren coming.

They got the victim out alive. He and Roy and that old man got out alive. Johnny guessed he must have blacked out. Had to be the heat. Everything was a weird jumble of noise, shadows and then masks being torn off smudged faces looking down at him. Did Captain Stanley cry?

The ambulance rolled up. The attendants, Hal and a new guy, came around with the gurney. Johnny held onto the IV bag while Ernie helped them lift him and the O2. Then Roy limped to the ambulance with them and Hal helped him in before loading the gurney. Ernie climbed in last. The doors slammed shut and the ambulance took off.

Johnny coughed a couple of time, but he didn't feel too bad at all. No burns, no scrapes. He wasn't even dizzy from the heat. And they all got out alive. Not bad at all.

"How's your leg?" Johnny gestured to Roy with his free hand, sitting on the bench next to Ernie. There was a bandge on the side of his leg and a big bruise

"Oh, it's fine. But Cap wanted me to have it checked out anyway." Roy grinned. "I think he just wanted to get us out of there before anything else happened to us."

Roy and Ernie both braced themselves as the ambulance took a turn.

"Yeah, you're both going to be fine. And I think your captain's going to put you in for a commendaton." Ernie pointed at him.

"Commendation? I'm going to put him in for the Medal of Valor for getting us out of there. I swear it's never been that close, Ernie." Roy gave a quick rundown of what happened. By the time he was done, they were nearly at Rampart.

Ernie sucked in his breath as if stung. "I'd say you are two real lucky firmen." The ambulance slowed, stopped and backed up. Ernie got up when it stopped again. The doors opened.

Doctor Mike Mortor was waiting. All business and no bedside manner, he was not Johnny's favorite medico, but he wasn't complaining. They were alive. It was almost twenty minutes and the end of the IV before Morton was satisfied that his blood pressure and vitals were back to normal. But Johnny completely forgot about uncle's funeral until Roy, in socks, carrying his boots and no longer limping, came in to see him.

Uncle John . . . . Johnny was just glad he hadn't killed someone else when he ran his car off the road. He was not looking forward to the trip, especially after being up most of the night, too. He got along fine with his family, but he never understood why his father always made excuses for his uncle.

Oh well.

Johnny hopped off the table, eager to leave the hospital. Captain Stanley had sent Marco to pick them up in the squad.

He would have Roy with him for the trip.

**

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...\\oo\\oo\\oo END oo/oo/oo/...**

**

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Disclaimer:** All E! characters belong to Mark VII Productions, Inc., Universal Studios and whoever else owns the 1970's TV show Emergency! All Quantum Leap characters and settings belong to Belisarius Productions and/or Universal and/or whoever else owns them. I am just playing in their sandbox.


End file.
